


Mele Kalikimaka

by Owl_Be_Writing



Series: If Elliott Had Been There- A Season Six Rewrite [10]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 10:29:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10695153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owl_Be_Writing/pseuds/Owl_Be_Writing
Summary: Kahula meets Kitty's mom before the Winter Dance, and it doesn't go very well. Later, when they stop at Kahula's house to pick up their leis, they interact with Kahula's family, and, while that goes significantly better, it's a different shape of embarrassing.





	Mele Kalikimaka

 

Kahula was surprised to find, when he pulled into Kitty’s driveway in his dad’s Lincoln Town Car, that she stood outside, and shivered in the cold in her pink dress and winter jacket. _‘What is she doing?’_ He put the car in park, and she immediately stepped forward and rapped her knuckles on the glass of his car door window. He killed the engine and got out, confused further when she shook her head.

She actually shoved him a little. “Come on,” she urged, “back in the car, let’s go.”

He stared at her. “And not meet your parents? I’m not about to be that rude; it’s kind of rude that I haven’t met them already.”

Before she could reply, a sing-song voice called out from the porch, “There you are, Kit-Kat! How long have you been out here? Oh!” The middle-aged blonde woman dressed in pastels that Kahula assumed was Kitty’s mother had spotted him. “Oh, my goodness! Is that your date? Bring him in; I have to meet this boy you were so excited to see that you risked frostbite, come in, come in!”

“ _‘Kit-Kat’_?” Kahula murmured to Kitty.

“ _You will tell no one,_ ” she whispered back.

They stepped inside, removed and hung up their coats on the hooks in the entryway, and allowed themselves to be lead into the living room, and sat down on the couch side by side, while Mrs. Wilde took the armchair. She presented them with a smile that to Kahula looked to be sweetened with Splenda.

“So,” she began, “I’m Kitty’s mother, Mrs. Helen Wilde. And you must be Kuba Potereiko!”

Kahula’s eyebrows shot up. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Kitty winced. “...it’s Kahula Palakiko, actually, ma’am,” he corrected.

Mrs. Wilde looked distressed. “Oh! Sorry,” she apologized. There was then a long, awkward pause, before she revealed herself and said, “You look...different, than I expected.”

Kahula knew that he should have been offended. Normally, he would have been. But he wasn’t.

He instead found it hilarious, and struggled to keep a straight face.

“Different how?” he asked, his expression completely innocent. Frankly, it was Oscar worthy.

“Well,” she seemed to desperately want to fidget, “I thought you might be...Polish.”

Two Oscars. “My apologies.”

“Oh! No, no,” cried Mrs. Wilde, and she waved her right hand in dismissal, “it’s only that…” She clasped her hands together in her lap and bit her lip. “What _are_ you, exactly?”

 _‘There it is,’_ thought Kahula. _‘I should be pissed off; why am I finding this so funny? Guess I’ve finally cracked.’_ At the edge of his vision, he saw that Kitty closed her eyes, like she could not bear the pain. “I’m Hawaiian,” he answered.

“Ah!” Mrs. Wilde smiled sunnily, something like relief in her features, “So you’re _American_.”

The right corner of Kahula’s lips twitched up very slightly. “Yes.”

“Kahula,” she murmured, “hula. So your name is ‘dancer’! How cute!” She leaned forward enthusiastically. “Like the reindeer! Perfect for Christmas.”

 _‘Oh my God.’_ Kahula had no idea how he held it together. “Thanks,” is all he said.

“So,” she chirped, eyes bright, “is the song true?”

Kahula blinked. “What song?”

“Mahi Kanyemanna,” she guilelessly answered. “Is that really what you people say instead of ‘merry Christmas’?”

 _‘Oh my_ **_God_ ** _.’_ He grunted, and replied, “There isn’t an ‘r’ or an ‘s’ in Hawaiian, and words have to end in a vowel, so ‘ _mele Kalikimaka_ ’ is the closest the language can come to ‘merry Christmas’.” Kahula almost smirked as he added, “But our ancestors were all forced to speak English a long time ago, so we all say ‘merry Christmas’.”

“‘Forced’?” Mrs. Wilde’s eyebrows lifted and she leaned back, before she smiled and said, in a condescending tone, “You mean your people were _taught_ to speak English.”

Kahula did not resist. “Well,” he shrugged, “there were guns being held to their heads at the time, but, yeah, sure,” a tiny smile snuck in, “‘taught’.”

He noticed Kitty’s eyes fly open, then.

It was hard not to grin at Mrs. Wilde’s face, then.

Then the woman quickly pasted on a smile and said, “My goodness, look at the time. I’m so sorry for keeping you, you’re going to be late!”

“The dance starts at seven, but we can get there later than that,” Kahula stated with a smooth easiness as he rested his chin on his fist, “so, if you wanted to talk some more, ma’am-”

“Oh no,” said Mrs. Wilde with poorly disguised desperation while her hands waved, “I couldn’t possibly delay you further!” She got up from her chair, then.

Kahula and Kitty got up as well. He might have enjoyed to tweak at Kitty’s mom a bit longer, but they did need to go.

“It was very nice to meet you, Mrs. Wilde,” he said, as he extended his hand for a handshake.

After a beat, she took his offered hand and shook it. “I would like to say the same,” she said. Her smile did not reach her eyes.

They made their way back to the entryway, put their coats back on, said their final goodbye to Mrs. Helen Wilde, and walked out the door.

Kahula went to the passenger side and opened the door for Kitty. When she was comfortably seated, he shut the door, walked ‘round, entered via the driver’s side, and took his seat behind the wheel. He started the engine, and backed out of the driveway.

They had gone a mile or two down the road when Kitty finally said, “I wish I was mad at you.”

Kahula burst out in laughter. When he got ahold of himself again, he remarked, “I’ve got that song stuck in my head, now.”

“Oh my _God,_ ” Kitty moaned, and pressed two fingers to her temple, “I am _so_ sorry about that, you have no idea.”

Kahula’s grin did not fade as he replied, “Oh, it’s fine. I really like the song, actually.” He briefly glanced at her. “And we _do_ say ‘mele Kalikimaka’. Mostly ironically, but still.”

Kitty looked at him then, and raised an eyebrow. “So, that was…”

Kahula told her, “Your mother had to be shamed.”

She tried to hide a smile, and failed. “You are a terrible human being.”

Kahula only laughed again. “At least I know why you’re racist, now.”

Kitty’s mouth dropped open. “Hey!” she objected, but then paused and looked to the side, then back at Kahula. “I’m a lot better than I was. ...and I never said you were Polish, by the way.”

Kahula’s gaze flicked over to Kitty, than back to the road. “Sure, Catty.”

She shook her head and crossed her arms, but smiled as she said, “You are a terrible human being.”

It wasn’t long before they arrived at Kahula’s house. When one lived across the street from where they planned to be, to find a place to park was no trouble.

Kahula dashed over to Kitty’s side after he left the car, to open her door and guide her out.

Yeah, it was old fashioned, but it was a proper _date_ , to go to a dance.

Kahula could tell that Kitty was mildly impressed.

“Now, sorry, but we have to go into my house for a minute,” he apologized.

“What for?” asked Kitty.

“For our leis,” he said, as he opened the door to his home for her and she walked through the doorway, “I’m surprised that you didn’t ask where my flowers for you were.”

“I was a little busy being mortified over the things my mother said.”

“Ah,” Kahula said, as he followed, and shut the door behind them both. “I wanted them to be as fresh as possible starting out,” he said as they removed their coats, “so me and my mom made them today, and they’ve been chilling in the fridge, waiting for us.” As they walked towards the kitchen, he leaned towards Kitty and muttered, “My mom refused to tell me how much the carnations cost, but Google exists mom, I know you spent over a hundred dollars, I’m paying you back.”

“You most certainly are not!” was how they were greeted, right after the door to the kitchen was opened by Kahula’s mother.

Kitty smiled brilliantly upon the sight of her. “Hi, Haukea.”

“Hello Kitty! Come here!” She embraced her, and then held her back at arm’s length to look at her. “My goodness,” she practically cooed, “you look beautiful.”

Kitty actually seemed a little bashful as she said, “Thank you.”

“I _am_ paying you back, mom,” Kahula insisted, which kind of broke the moment.

“Nonsense,” his mom replied.

Kahula quickly dropped the argument when he then noticed there were two others near kitchen area with them, stood in front of the dining table. “Dad? Ailani?” Then he noticed what they held in their hands. “Why do you have a guitar,” he said to his sister, and then to his father, “and you a ukulele?”

“Guess,” answered Ailani, cheekily.

“Oh, no,” moaned Kahula, but it was a grin he wore as he pretended to ignore them when they each started to strum their instruments while he walked to the fridge. As he opened the fridge door, his dad began to sing, and his mom did the hula that went with it-

 

_~Mele Kalikimaka is a thing to say!_

_On a bright Hawaiian Christmas day!_

_That’s the island greeting that we send to you!_

_From the land where palm trees sway!~_

 

Kahula retrieved the box in which the pink carnation leis delicately...laid, closed the fridge door, and set the box down on the kitchen island, and lifted one of the leis. Kitty walked up to stand next to him, and, while Ikaika finished the verse, bowed her head slightly, and Kahula placed her lei over her head and upon her shoulders, where it gently hung about her neck. As Kahula’s mom and Ailani sang the repeat of the verse, Kitty reached for and picked up the other lei, and Kahula bent to receive it from her.

 

_~Here we know that Christmas will be green and bright_

_The sun to shine by day_

_And all the stars at night!~_

 

Kahula and Kitty held hands, and just looked at each other for a moment, and then, a bit awkwardly at first, began to dance while his father and his sister played the instrumental, and continued to dance as his father, mother, and sister sang the third repeat of the second half of the verse.

Kahula joined his father in the fourth repeat, and Kitty joined his sister and mother.

 

_~Mele Kalikimaka is Hawaii’s way!_

_To say merry Christmas!_

_A very merry Christmas!_

_A very merry merry Christmas_

_To you!~_

 

As the notes faded out, Kahula and Kitty gazed at each other, and then leaned forward to do the traditional greeting of Hawai`i: they breathed out, touched foreheads, and then breathed each other in.

When Kahula told Kitty of the honi, the ‘Hawaiian kiss’, and what it meant, and performed it with her, she’d commented that it felt very weird and Pagan.

And then asked to do it again.

They remembered that they had an audience when Ailani spoiled the moment with a loud “Whoo!”

They both flushed, stepped away from each other, and Kahula coughed and said, “Wow, check the time, we gotta go.”

“But I haven’t taken a picture of you two yet!” Haukea protested, to no avail as they both fled.

They didn’t even stop to grab their coats.

**Author's Note:**

> Song featured-
> 
> [Mele Kalikimaka](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0XHk_8izVqY) by Bing Crosby
> 
> [The dance](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lCMlZpJ7SQk) Kahula’s mom does.


End file.
